


LA

by stelleshine



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Band Love, Bromance, POV Alternating, reflecting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-16
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-01 22:27:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5223320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stelleshine/pseuds/stelleshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>5 Seconds of Summer & LA.</p>
<p>(Blink-and-you'll-miss-it Cake)</p>
            </blockquote>





	LA

Michael hates LA.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t _hate_ it.

He hates _Luke_ in LA.

It’s like the moment the plane hits the runway and taxis into the gate and weary passengers start filing off, it’s like he _changes_ , like _LA Luke_ comes out of hiding and all of a sudden he’s not so weary, not so annoyed by the ten hour flight from London.

He’s almost supercharged, bouncing on the balls of his feet as they wait for the rows in front of them to clear, readjusting his snapback on his head and fingers clenching the seats he was using to keep him upright.

Michael would drag himself off after him, carry-on bag almost grazing the floor as he disembarks his eyes half-lidded and a pounding rattle in his head. He can’t stomach _LA Luke_ for very long. He supposes that’s a good thing, because as soon as they clear customs, Luke’s always pretty antsy to get away from them, to catch up with _friends_.

And Michael gets it, he does. They spend _so_ much time together that sometimes you want new faces, new accents and new walks of life, to remind them that they’re not the only four people in the world.

Michael just wishes Luke was a little more _honest_ about it.

They all know where he’s going. They know what he’s going to do, and they know they probably won’t see him until their next promo event. But he always denies it – he’s such a stupid _fool_ – and they all stopped calling him on his shit months ago, when Luke started to get _pissed_ whenever they poked holes in his story.

It’s not like it’s a secret – oh no, it’s very much _out there_ – and Michael sometimes wishes _LA Luke_ could be taken down a notch or two. Maybe, when he’s had a solid thirteen hours of sleep and twenty cups of coffee, Michael might point that out to him; that his _LA-ness_ was verging on an egotistical level that could seriously _change_ things.

But as they filed into the imposing black four wheel drive to take them to the hotel, Michael stops caring. He puts his headphones in his ears and closes his eyes, drowning out the sound of Luke on his phone, making plans with his friends.

**

Calum _hates_ LA.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t _hate_ it.

He hates the _media_ in LA.

It’s the most volatile in America, he’s quickly learnt. That those vultures will do just about _anything_ to take their picture, and if it’s leaving a club at two in the morning, they’re even more viscous, pushing fans out of the way to get _that shot_ , even though it’s of him with crazy, tired eyes and crumpled clothes and flipping the bird to make the photos useless.

It’s the headlines and insinuations and goddamn way they turn them into plastic figures instead of _people_ , and he’s always at his most homesick whenever they were in LA. Because the band always fractured; each of them trying to fit in friends and parties and whatever social gatherings they were invited to, and as much as the break was a _relief_ sometimes, other times he wanted it to be like it used to be.

When no one gave a shit and they could get from the airport to the hotel without fanfare, that they’d push the two queen beds in one room together and fall asleep in a cuddle pile. He wished for anonymity, not because he hated his life, but he missed the simplicity.

He missed his _band_ , too.

Missed playing video games with Michael and going to parties with Luke and tagging along when Ashton got up at the ass crack of dawn to go running.

Instead it was camera flashes and questions about girls and rumours about fucking anyone they were photographed with.

Calum wanted to fall asleep with Luke, curled around his back like they did in London. When being the _little spoon_ was the highlight of Luke’s day, and the smell of his hair was Calum’s. He hated how much they changed being back in LA.

But he got it, he did. He understood that with the unsurmountable good, came the bad. It was a price they had to pay to do what they loved.

He’d get used to it.

**

Ashton _hates_ LA.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t _hate_ it.

He hates the _demands_ of LA.

He’s needed, twenty-four-seven, and the idea of stepping out of the hotel onto the sidewalk is something he has to do with _permission_ and _supervision_ and he’d never felt more repressed than he did when he was in America.

Maybe not _all_ of America, but LA had him by the throat, the moment the wheels of the plane touched down. There was part of it he loved – Feldy and his new mates and the promise of a _legal_ drink in a _real_ bar – but the rest of it could kiss his ass, if he was honest.

London is more his speed, the sleepy calm of a city he could get lost in. It was always hardest flying from London to LA. They were such polar opposites, and he’d spend so much time on the plane feeling anxious, knowing that it was _all_ going to change the moment they landed.

And he _understood_ it, of course. That their career deserved their hard work, which meant promo and elbow-rubbing and award shows. It was the necessary evil they’d all accepted without really talking about it, sharing a _look_ that made Ashton feel like he wasn’t alone.

But somehow, LA did tear them apart.

Maybe not for long, maybe not noticeable to anyone else, but Ashton could _feel_ it. It always felt like he was playing catch up, holding onto his friends just so he wouldn’t lose touch, but they’d be torn away regardless.

Whether it was Michael holing himself up in his room to sleep, or Calum’s presence at John’s house, or Luke’s healthy nightlife, he was usually alone.

Not _alone_ , alone. He had his mates and that was _good_ , but his band was his world and it didn’t feel right to go their separate ways. He tried forcing the issue, laying out a guilt trip that never worked, because it wasn’t like they weren’t together the entire time they were in London.

Or Amsterdam.

Or Italy.

Was he too clingy to want to keep them around?

But that was LA.

**

Luke _hates_ LA.

Okay, maybe he doesn’t _hate_ it.

He’s pulled in five different directions, by girls and friends and his idols and he wants to give himself to all of them. He’s just that kind of guy, wants to please everyone no matter what, even when it means putting other things before his band.

And he’s not stupid. He knows they know he’s dating, and it’s not something he likes to talk about. It’s just his LA bubble, his sudden popularity with the opposite sex, the constant need to be photographed when he was out. It was uncomfortable a lot of the time, but he was a people pleaser.

Then he’d see the comments on Instagram posts, on unrelated photos that always bought such viscous words. He knew that he couldn’t please everyone at the same time, and the anxiety it caused him to read the hate directed towards him because of a _girl_ broke his heart.

But he was _in_ , with her. He was creating a life for himself amongst the LA culture that meant he was invited places the band wasn’t, that he was the go-to guy for a fun night out. And that seemed _important_ , for some reason.

That he have new friends and do new things and try to remind himself it wasn’t just 5 Seconds of Summer, that there were people out there who wanted to know _him_ , separately from the band. But no one really knew how _hard_ that was.

Sure, he was getting laid.

There wasn’t a nineteen year old boy on _earth_ who wouldn’t be stoked about that.

But every moment he was with her or someone else, it was time away from his band. And there were times – recently, especially – where going out with her and their friends just wasn’t as important as being with his three best friends.

He didn’t know how to talk to them about it, because they were nineteen and twenty-one themselves and would _understand_ how important intimacy was in their crazy life, but would they get it if he said he just didn’t want sex sometimes?

He wanted to be spooned by Calum and feel his fingers run through his hair like they had in London, and he wanted to play cards with Michael and listen to Ashton read articles from the London times about social issues that Luke wished he understood more.

He wanted to turn back time, to when no one gave a shit about them in LA and they could go for coffee without security, or see a movie or stand outside their damn hotel.

Maybe next time.

He hoped.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in half an hour, thinking about 5SOS landing back in LA. Please let me know what you think! I'm geared to longer, chaptered works so I'd love some feedback!
> 
> xoxo


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